Living Stone
by WannaBeRogue
Summary: Maybe I’m just moving marble that bleeds.


**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Heroes**

**WARNING: Femlsash**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a one-shot. I'm having massive writers block and this is something I've finally finished. Inspired by the song "CANDY" by LoveDrug. Enjoy. **

**Living Stone**

"You think you can't feel, Pom-Pom? I'll make you feel."

Lightning shoots across the room, straight, twisted, smooth and sharp. It pierces and burns my flesh, boiling the blood that lurks beneath my skin. I stand still; quiet breaths of burning clothes are the only proof that I'm not a statue. I'm not made of stone. My sneakers have melted to the floor and I can't move. It doesn't surprise me at all that I actually don't mind standing still. If I can't move, I can't miss feeling my footsteps on the pavement, or the air that used to tickle my face when I walked. Maybe being a statue would be easier than living with a numbed body. Maybe I'm just moving marble that bleeds.

I see her thrust her hands forward with a grunt. Blue and white light forms into a ball and flows down the constant stream of energy that has been pumping into me for the last few seconds. She's unleashing something from deep inside her, something full of anger and hate and ache… and I wish I had her passion.

There's no pain when I fall, sliding back first onto concrete. There hasn't been any pain at all and I can't help but laugh, tears falling down the side of my face, at just how pointless this all is. She doesn't understand. No matter how much she craves to hurt me, to torture me, to make me scream, I never will. I never _can_.

She's standing over me now, hands pointing at me, sweat making her face glow. I can hear her hard breathing, but I know it's out of frustration, not fatigue. No, she's bottled up her energy, planned this long in advance; tailor made it for me and it's not working. She stops the flow of hot flames and cold rage just long enough to straddle my waist and point an elegant finger at my chest. Slowly the lightning cuts a line through my insides, burns a black hole straight through the center of my ribs and I admire just how precise she is. When I see the trace of a relieved smile pass across her face I know she's reached my spine. I can see it in the reflection of her crystal eyes.

She uses her nails to slice through the charred bone just as I begin to heal and I'm amazed I've stayed conscious throughout this examination. My skin turns from ash to burnt tissue to soft flesh in seconds. She's savage when she breaks my spine, ripping it through my mended organs, making a point of shattering my heart while her hand travels out of my body. The pull of my spine hits a nerve and I jolt. Remnants of feelings shudder through what has to be my soul, because my body is dead. And as the imagined pain begins to overwhelm me, I feel her hand on my bare shoulder, the majority of my clothes having burned off long ago. I hadn't even realized she was using it to brace herself, to give her something to hold me down while she ripped me up inside. And I can't help but like it when we touch, the feelings of her hand like sweetness.

And she knows. She sees the feeling in my eyes and shock fills her face. I expect for her to gloat at my tears, to see pride and glory in her eyes and mirth in her smile. Instead, she lets out a shuddering breath and she bites her bottom lip until she bleeds, staring down at me unblinking. I wonder if this is how she cries.

Her hand remains on my shoulder, her grip firm and I can feel the blood rushing quickly through her veins. Her other hand sneaks up my chest and my throat, behind my neck, burying itself in my hair like it has a secret it wants to hide. She leans over me and I know she only makes me feel because she's my complete opposite who feels too much. Life is poetic like that without ever meaning to be.

My mouth is trembling and my eyes are pouring tears and I never want to stop feeling her breath on my lips. She gently lifts my head up and all I want is for her to make the feelings linger just a little longer. I want her to make _my_ feelings, my only feelings, stay. And just as my lips are about to taste a heaven of feeling, she closes her eyes, silently stands lifting herself up, and walks away.

And just like that, I am living stone again.


End file.
